


i’ll help you breathe (but i’ll drown alone)

by trixicinkflair



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bonding, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, Gen, Hanging Out, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Hyperventilating, Makeup, Medication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Panic, Pre-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, Replaces the Accepting Anxiety arc, The Imagination, anxiety medication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixicinkflair/pseuds/trixicinkflair
Summary: -When Thomas begins taking anxiety medication, Virgil is convinced that Thomas wants to get rid of him. He makes one more final, desperate attempt to fix the strained bond between him and the Sides (that he has, despite his best efforts, begun to call family) before locking himself in his room and awaiting his fate. But things don't go quite the way he planned.-so yeah, this is fun lol // fic is properly capitalized
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Platonic LAMP/CALM
Comments: 15
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lattedi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lattedi/gifts).



> wanna clarify real quick that the anxiety meds don't hurt virgil. he is so convinced of the fact that thomas wants him gone and that the meds will hurt him that he creates a sort of placebo effect and starts to make himself disappear.
> 
> ~ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I do your makeup?"
> 
> Virgil blinked. "Why?"
> 
> "Pleeeease? I just wanna try something."
> 
> "...fine."
> 
> “Thank you! I swear you aren’t going to regret this.”
> 
> ”Well now I’m just nervous that you feel the need to verbalize that bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk about any typos, i still don't have a beta reader. i low key wanted to ask my friend jason to look this over, but that would've required both bothering him for a dumb reason and human communication.
> 
> ~ink
> 
> edit: he looked it over sjdjjdjd I need to just ask people things instead of assuming they’ll be too busy to eventually help me with something.

The flickers were first. He had gotten up to grab his headphones, and his hand had phased right through just as he grabbed them, knocking them to the floor as his entire body shivered. Coming back was painful, and he gritted his teeth against the ache, clenching his fists and holding his breath.

”Anxiety? Are you joining us for dinner?” Roman called through the door, and Virgil flinched, another spasming pain and the accompanying flicker running through his body.

”Be there in a minute, I’m...doing my makeup!” Virgil yelled back, panicking when Roman knocked on the door.

A pause, and then, “makeup, like...your usual, or... _makeup_ makeup?"

Virgil scrambled for his eyeshadow. “Just messing around, it’s nothing fancy.”

”Can I see?”

_Fuck, you should have just said you were doing your usual. Stupid._

”Uh...I haven’t done anything yet, but sure,” he agreed reluctantly. At least he could get away from his room. “Can we go to your room, though? It’s easier to see in there.”

“Of course!” The door burst open, and Roman ran in, grabbing him by the arm and sprinting out of the room.

”Jesus, Princey, warn a guy!” Virgil hissed, yanking his arm back as soon as they were safely in the creative facet’s room.

”Sorry,” Roman shot back, not sounding very apologetic at all. He brightened suddenly. "Can I do your makeup?"

Virgil blinked. "Why?"

"Pleeeease? I just wanna try something."

"...fine."

“Thank you! I swear you aren’t going to regret this.”

”Well now I’m just nervous that you feel the need to verbalize that bit.”

Roman laughed at that, boisterous and loud. Virgil couldn’t help but smirk behind his hand; Roman’s mirth was contagious. "Seriously, Anx," Roman said, suddenly serious. "I won't do anything stupid. Nothing you would outright disapprove of."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise," Roman said cheerfully, holding out his pinky.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil linked his around Roman's. "This is childish."

"But you went with it," Roman teased lightly. "So either we're _both_ childish or this is a perfectly normal thing to do."

"Hush and get on with it," Virgil retorted, flicking the Side on the back of his head, grinning at the muffled yelp and an indignant hiss of Virgil's traitname as Roman jerked away.

"Okay, fine. Bossy." Roman's words were sharp, and would probably have stung in any other scenario, but the retort lacked its usual bite, and the grin on Roman's face sapped any malicious intent right out of the sentence. "Hold still and close your eyes."

Virgil immediately complied, (he didn't think of the implication of that, the notion that he _trusted_ Roman, until much later) letting his head loll back and forcing himself not to flinch as Roman gently tilted his head one way and then the other.

The brushes Roman used were nothing like Virgil's old one. They were light and soft, leaving trails of warmth across his skin. The downy feel of the brushes against his eyelids was hypnotizing, and he once had to motionlessly jerk himself back awake when he found himself drifting off to the sound of Roman humming tunelessly under his breath as he worked.

"Open your eyes for a sec, would you? I want to make sure that's even," Roman requested suddenly, and Virgil forced his eyes open, squinting momentarily at the burst of harsh light after so long with his eyes closed.

Roman grinned happily. "Done. Wanna see?"

Virgil shrugged. "Sure, why not? You spent all that time on it."

Beaming, Roman slipped him a small handheld mirror, and Virgil almost forgot how to speak. "Holy shit, Roman."

"Do you not like it? I can try something else if-"

"No, Princey, jeez, this is...it looks really good," he choked, unable to tear his gaze from the image in the mirror. His eyeliner flared out in perfect wings, making the green and gold flecks in his irises stand out and framing his eyes perfectly in contrast to the shimmery purple eyeshadow and black lipstick.

"Holy shit," Virgil repeated. "I like the purple."

"It would be a good color for Thomas to dye his hair," Roman mused. Virgil found himself agreeing before he could think of a proper counterargument.

"Yeah, that might look alright."

Roman looked shocked. "Wait, you're _agreeing_ with me? Uh oh. Who are you and what have you done with Anxiety?"

"Don't get used to it," Virgil warned. "This is a temporary truce. Got it?"

"What are the terms of this...truce?" Roman asked, narrowing his eyes playfully.

Virgil smirked. "One week. I won't give you shit unless an idea is actually stupid and might hurt Thomas or whatever. I still have a job to do, you know," he teased. "Would that be satisfactory?"

"I can work with it," Roman said, smiling widely. "Thank you, Anxiety."

"It's Virgil, actually."

If Roman had been drinking something, he would have snorted it out his nose, judging by the look on his face. "Beg your pardon?"

"Virgil. That's my name. Just...don't use it in front of the others. Yet. Please." He shrugged. "Since we aren't fighting and we've reached enough of an agreement to make a truce, you might as well know my name."

Roman's shocked expression slowly morphed into a smile that rivaled the sun. He hastily traced an x over his chest and bowed his head. "You have my word that I will not reveal your identity to the others."

"Thank you, Roman."

"Of course...Virgil."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The headaches, unlike the flickers, eventually started to hit him even when he wasn’t in his room, which made it a lot harder to hide. By the end of the first week, Logan was onto him like a cat, always watching him out of the corner of his eye with a mix of curiosity and concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took waaaay longer than expected. i’m tired and thirsty and i want to sleep but also really want to post this...and it's only 9:46 pm. except I am absolutely exhausted. as soon as this is up, I'm crashing.
> 
> goodnight!
> 
> ~ink
> 
> edit: i passed out before i could hit post. sorry!!

The headaches came next, slamming into him almost as soon as his bedroom door shut behind him. He'd started avoiding his room as much as possible, trying to delay the inevitable and frantically hoard every second he could spend with the other Sides without being overbearing.

He baked cookies and watched movies with Patton, much to the delight of the moral side. Patton eventually managed to convince him to dig out a onesie and have a slumber party with him (complete with snacks and telling spooky stories well into the night.) Virgil, though he wouldn't dare tell the other Sides, had quite enjoyed himself.

He read books with Logan and listened to him rant about his research (and gladly - Virgil was as much a nerd as Logan was) and even his newer experiments whenever the logical Side deemed results solid enough to be shared. They also engaged in several rather satisfying debates in which Virgil very decidedly did _not_ hiss, thank you very much. Virgil's favorite thing, though, was probably the nights spent in a little section of the Imagination Roman had cornered off for Logan, where they stargazed until they couldn't keep their eyes open a moment longer, falling asleep side by side on the cool, soft grass.

He let Roman do his makeup several more times, and twice reciprocated, with rather rewarding results in his opinion. Roman was thrilled by Virgil opening up enough to hang out and quickly arranged several movie nights with just the two of them. They watched Disney movies until they fell asleep together on Roman's bed. (Patton has pictures, but don't tell anyone about that.)

The headaches, unlike the flickers, eventually started to show up even when he wasn’t in his room, which made it a _lot_ harder to hide. By the end of the first week, Logan was onto him like a cat, always watching him out of the corner of his eye with a mix of curiosity and concern.

When one hit during dinner and he immediately excused himself to his room, it seemed to be the opportunity Logan had been waiting for. He silently left the table while Virgil was still gathering his dishes to put them at the sink.

He was waiting for him when he got to his room, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his cheat, a small frown on his face. “Are you experiencing any discomfort besides headaches?” he immediately demanded.

Virgil blinked at the brutally forward tone. “What?”

”Are you experiencing any discomfort besides headaches?” Logan repeated, slower.

”I...no,” he lied, shifting his weight to the opposite leg and rolling back onto his heels. “Why?”

”Because I’m not blind, your headaches are becoming more frequent, and based off the symptoms you’ve been exhibiting the past three or four days, they are also becoming increasingly intense. Even now you are barely able to squint even though the lighting in this hallway is relatively low,” Logan explained.

Virgil blinked. “Sorry.”

”Why are you apologizing?” Logan asked, his frown deepening. “You cannot control your headaches.”

”I know, but...I didn’t mean to bother you. This is my burden, not yours,” Virgil tried to explain.

Wrong thing to say. Logan straightened. “Do you honestly believe that I came here to check on you because you being in pain was a burden to me?” he demanded incredulously.

Virgil shrugged. “You weren’t supposed to notice. I was just going to ride it out and stay out of the way,” he mumbled.

Logan sighed. “Anxiety, I came up here because I am worried about you, not because I thought you were bothering us or Thomas. In fact, Thomas’s productivity this week had put him far ahead of his schedule, which means more time to relax, should he require a short break or a mental health day. You are doing the opposite of bothering us.”

”...Oh. Uh, thanks? I think?”

”You are welcome. Now. Back to your headaches. Have you noticed yourself becoming unable to interact with any part of the mindscape physically in the past month or so?”

 _Lie. Now._ “No, I think I’d notice something like that.”

Logan took the lie in stride, moving on along his mental list of questions without so much as a blink. “Alright, good. Have you, in the past two weeks, experienced any nausea, dizzy spells or bouts of unexplained unconsciousness?”

”...No? No.”

Logan nodded. “Very good. How long have you noticed your headaches, and on average, how long would you say they’ve lasted?”

Virgil frowned. “Uh...just the last week or so, and they last longer every time. The last one was around an hour and a half, maybe? This one feels worse already.”

Logan’s eyes went wide, and he pushed Virgil’s door open. “My apologies, I had forgotten you were currently experiencing a headache. Would you like to continue this later, or may I come in?”

Virgil contemplated, then shrugged. “Just don’t mess with the webs, and don’t rely on the clock.”

Logan peeked inside, eyes immediately going to the clock on the wall above Virgil’s bed. “Fascinating. Does time move differently in this particular part of the mindscape?” he asked.

”Nope.” Virgil popped the ‘p,’ dropping backwards onto his bed with a huff and turning the lights off with a halfhearted snap of his fingers. “It’s representing that time when you’re anxious is meaningless. It feels like you don’t have enough time, like things are going too fast and leaving you behind.”

Logan nodded, mouthing the words to himself as he recorded them in a small journal that he pulled out of nowhere.

”Oh, and time during an anxiety or panic attack doesn’t really mean shit. You’re too focused on the attack to keep track of the passage of time, so it can catch you off guard that you’ve been panicking for, say, almost an hour.”

”Interesting.”

"Sometimes it goes too slow, too, and you become hyperaware of every passing second, and there're so many things you didn't-" Virgil shook himself and shrugged. “I’m the manifested representation of Thomas’s anxiety, it’s my job to know about it.”

“So you don’t _cause_ Thomas’s anxiety, then?” Logan asked, sounding surprised.

”No, I...I’m just a representation of the fact that Thomas has an anxiety disorder, and I _have_ anxiety. But I’m not the sole cause of his anxiety in general. I can sort of control how much anxiety he feels sometimes, though. In times when he's so stressed it overloads him, I can usually...I don't know. Siphon it off to me so it doesn't hit him as hard, I guess.” Virgil shrugged.

Logan looked flabbergasted. “We’ve had it wrong all along,” he whispered, more to himself than to Virgil directly.

”Had what wrong?” Virgil couldn’t help but ask.

Logan blinked, like he’d only just remembered Virgil was in the room with him. “We - that is, the other Sides and myself - have been operating under the assumption that you cause Thomas’s anxiety and have control other when he does and does not feel anxious about a certain activity.“

He cleared his throat, sounding rather embarrassed. “I can see now that we were terribly incorrect, and have been treating you very unfairly. I apologize for my behavior, I should never have even attempted to assume anything about your role in Thomas’s mind when I didn’t even think to ask you directly.”

Virgil shrugged again. "Not a big deal, Logan. You should go, though. You, uh…" He gestured to his eyes, and Logan nodded, understanding immediately.

"Yes, I suppose I was too worked up. Entering your room with questions like the ones I was asking was not a wise decision on my end. I apologize for disturbing you. Feel better, Anxiety."

He turned and left without another word before Virgil had a chance to reply, and he sighed, moving to close the door. His hand phased through the knob twice before he gritted his teeth and grasped it firmly, closing the door and flopping down onto his bed. He pulled a pillow to his chest and smiled.

"Thank you, Logan," he whispered. The logical side wouldn't hear him, of course, but it felt better to say it anyways.

His form spasmed painfully, briefly flickering so badly that he could make out the print of his bed sheets through the space where his body should have been. "Fuck," he hissed, gritting his teeth. His eyes closed as a wave of electric pain shot through his body.

_Water._

Virgil lurched to his feet, making his way to the door almost painfully slowly, hand closing around the doorknob-

He jolted upright to the sound of someone rapping lightly on the door. "Anxiety? Are you coming down for breakfast this morning?"

_What? Breakfast?_

Virgil squinted at the clock, peering into the flying clock hands at the real time, faintly superimposed over the clock in a pocket of space only he could see. Almost nine am. They were up later than usual, or someone (Patton) had burned breakfast.

Reality jolted back into place, and Virgil scrambled to his feet. He'd been going to the door, headed to the kitchen to get water, and then…nothing. He didn't even remember getting to the door. Logan's words from...the previous night rushed back to him. _"Have you experiences any dizzy spells or bouts of unexplained unconsciousness?"_ Missing an entire afternoon and night seemed pretty unexplained to Virgil. It was getting worse.

Patton knocked again, softer and more hesitant. "Anxiety? Are you still asleep?"

"No!" Virgil called, praying his shaking voice wouldn't raise any suspicion. "No, sorry, I had my headphones on. What's up, Pat?" He opened the door, leaning against the frame.

The moral side grinned up at him. "There you are! Breakfast is ready, kiddo. Up for some pancakes?"

Virgil smiled, hiding a grimace as his head started to throb dully. "I'll be down in a second. Let me grab my hoodie."

"See you then!" Patton chirped, bounding off down the hall.

Virgil closed the door and slumped against it, pressing his fists against his eyes in a hopeless attempt to relieve the pressure building behind them. He couldn't skip breakfast now, it wouldn't be polite. He pushing himself upright, snagged his hoodie off the end of his bed, and headed out of his room and down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really not sure about how to keep this going, but i suppose we'll just push on and see where it takes us, alright? thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> ~ink

The headaches combined with the now daily blackouts and what Virgil had officially dubbed "flickers" were leaving him exhausted, with barely enough energy to get to meals. Even Roman was becoming concerned, dragging him aside in the hallway one day on the way to dinner. He'd accidentally skipped breakfast and lunch, curled up on the floor of his bathroom, the cool tile doing nothing to alleviate his headache, though it did help with the heat snaking through hi body.

"Are you feeling okay? You've been avoiding us a lot more than usual," he said, peering into Virgil's eyes cautiously.

Virgil looked away. "I'm alright. I'm just tired, that's all. Haven't been sleeping much."

Roman frowned. "Any particular reason?"

Virgil shrugged. "Just haven't been sleeping." It technically wasn't a lie. His blackouts never left him feeling rested, almost as if all he'd done was blink instead of pass out. And the flickered kept him awake at night, curled on his bed as he waiting for the agony to be over so he could _breathe_ , god dammit it _hurt-_

"What do you think?" Roman asked, voice breaking Virgil out of his thoughts.

He jolted. "What? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," he mumbled, curling into himself.

Roman just smiled. "Would you like to try spending the night in my room? I shut down access to the Imagination just to make it more secure, I figured you wouldn't want to risk a manticore getting inside in the middle of the night. Being in my room might help you a bit, since I help control Thomas's dreams. You might be able to relax a little better outside of that light-deprived cave you call a room." He grinned.

Virgil went to retort, but the teasing glint in the creative side's eye told him that he was just joking. "Better than the disgustingly bright glitter disaster _you_ call a room," he fired back, bumping Roman playfully with his shoulder. "At least I have some style when it comes to tasteful decorating."

Roman scoffed. "I'll have you know that my room is _very_ stylish, thank you very much. it's not my fault your aesthetic is reminiscent of early 2005."

"Okay, first off? Not anywhere close. But regardless of your opinion, 2005 was a good year, and this conversation is over now," Virgil said, sticking his tongue out at Roman, hopping up to follow him to the other's room. "We hit our peak in '08, though."

"Whoa...not what I was expecting," he admitted as they slipped through the door. "But I like it. It's cozy."

Roman grinned. "Thought I'd make it a mix between your gloomy emo cave and my glitter disaster," he teased, scrunching his nose playfully as he repeated Virgil's earlier description of his usual décor.

The walls were lavender, the Disney posters dotting the walls switched so that a few of them featured Virgil's favorite movies. The two beds were pushed a few inches apart, and it was obvious which was for who. The one on the left was red, with a gorgeous white canopy that draped down over the frame. The right was darker, with deep purple sheets and a black blanket that Virgil recognized as a perfect copy of the one he brought down for movie nights with the other Sides.

"Want your onesie or a different one?" Roman asked, turning to turn on his speaker and flick the Bluetooth on his phone on. The speaker beeped twice as it connected. "I can summon yours or make you a new one. Your choice."

Virgil grinned as the Heathers soundtrack began to play softly in the background. Roman flushed and reached to change it but Virgil shook his head. "The music is fine, leave it. And surprise me. You're pretty good at making things."

Roman beamed, snapping his fingers. Virgil glanced down and grinned at the soft black and white material. "Is this a racoon?" Roman nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. Virgil laughed. "Nice."

"Alright!" Roman chirped, bounding up onto his bed. "Want to watch a movie or get some sleep? I'm probably going to crash, but you're welcome to do your own thing."

"Plug your phone in so it doesn't die. I'm exhausted, do you think you could just leave the music going?" he asked tentatively.

Roman nodded, stretching before he slipped over to hook his phone up to the wall outlet, grimacing as the music lowered for the bloop that told him it was charging. "Alright. Sweet dreams, Virgil."

Virgil smiled sleepily, already most of the way to unconsciousness. "Night, Princey."

**Author's Note:**

> this is officially being written for jason because he’s the bestest best friend and little brother that i could ask for and he’s been hyping me up about this maybe without even realizing it. I’m just honestly so honored that he’s a part of my life. love you, jason!! 💜💜
> 
> ahfjdjfjskd he’s also low key partially the beta reader for this fic now so shoutout to jason for being double amazing and helping me out with that.
> 
> ~ink


End file.
